


Jojo Is Super Whipped

by tannoreth



Series: DND Fic [4]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), QDND
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1308598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tannoreth/pseuds/tannoreth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone pushes open the flap on his tent. Half asleep, Jojo sits up and lunges for the shadowy figure, thinking, Bandits! Not going to get my stuff –</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jojo Is Super Whipped

Someone pushes open the flap on his tent. Half asleep, Jojo sits up and lunges for the shadowy figure, thinking, _Bandits! Not going to get my stuff –_

The figure rolls forward, neatly dodging him, and shoves him back against his bedroll. Confused and dazed, he blinks up at Lia’s face. _What is_ Lia _doing in my tent?_ he thinks. Then he processes that thought slightly more carefully and feels his face heat. _What is_ _Lia doing_ in my _tent?_

Her nose brushes against his. He has just enough time to say, “Lia, wha –“ before she kisses him. It’s long and hot and – unlike the other times she’d kissed him since they met again - not at all ambiguous about what it means. She drags at his lip with her teeth and sucks on his tongue and by the time she breaks away they’re both breathing heavily.

A thought strikes him, and he shakes his head to forget it, because it’s inconvenient and because he’d rather wrap his arm around Lia’s waist and pull her in to kiss her again. She sighs a little, pleased, and wraps her hands in his hair and his mind is a warm fog of _She’s a great kisser. Why is she kissing me? Who cares, she’s a great kisser and I can totally feel her tits, there’s like two layers of cloth between us and that’s_ it. He’d seen her naked before, of course, swimming and changing clothes, but he’d never been allowed to touch her, not even this closely.

The thought sneaks back in. He sighs resentfully at it, because right now is _literally_ the most annoying time for his conscience to act up. Nevertheless, Jojo grabs Lia by the shoulders and holds her off. “But – what about your, uh – “ He doesn’t want to say ‘fiancé’ in case it makes her reassess this, in case she just _forgot_ or something. He also doesn’t _really_ want her to reassess this. “Your, uh, person. With the ring. Thing.” Well, that was smooth.

“Are you saying you don’t want to do this?” she shoots back, and runs her nails down her stomach, scratching, and then reaches between his legs and _squeezes_ and he doesn’t care about stupid mysterious fiancés because. Because holy shit, Lia is in his tent and Lia is kissing him and Lia wants to _do this._ Before he even realizes it, his fingers are unlacing his pants and he’s kicking off his boots. She wriggles out of her pants and then swings a leg over him. She’s so much narrower than him that he’s afraid she won’t be able to, but she straddles him without a hint of discomfort. He’s momentarily impressed by her flexibility before she rolls her hips against his and he loses his train of thought entirely.

Lia is already slick and wet against him, more than she should be just from kissing, and he spends a moment pleasantly imagining what she might’ve been thinking about or – doing? – before climbing into his tent. No matter what a nice thought that is, it’s nothing compared to the reality of Lia sliding back, rubbing against him. She reaches down and strokes his dick until he’s fully hard, which doesn’t take long, and then guides him inside her. His hands go to her hips, and he squeezes his eyes shut, his mouth falling open in a low groan. He hears her gasp, and opens his eyes again. In the dim light, he can just see her biting her lip in concentration as she works her way down.

“Gods, Lia,” he says and would have gone on, probably for a while, but she cuts him off.

“Shh!” she says sharply, pressing her mouth against his hand. She jerks her head to the side, and he sees someone silhouetted against the tent wall, lit by the flickering campfire. Leaves crunch as the figure - maybe Havi? Who cares – squats down by the fire to put it out.

Jojo is tense, praying that the person outside can’t see them in the tent the way they can see him. He’s distracted watching the silhouette, so he jerks back to attention when Lia moves against him.

With her hand still covering his mouth, he says “They’ll notice-“ although it comes out as a wet mumble.

“Not if you keep quiet,” she whispers, and slips her fingers into his mouth.

He bites down lightly and swirls his tongue around the pads of her fingers, and is rewarded with a small gasp. When he grins up at her, she tugs at his hair with her other hand, frowning slightly. She rocks against him again, slowly, and he squeezes his hands on her hips, fighting not to make a sound.

The tent gets dimmer as the fire goes out, and Jojo hears more crunching as whoever it is goes back to their own tent.

As the figure outside retreats, Lia moves faster, working herself into a rhythm. He slips his hand between her legs and rubs small circles as she rides him. It’s clumsy, trying to match with her movements, and he’s distracted by – well – but she sighs softly and tilts her hips into his hand.

After a few minutes though, he’s forced to give up that attempt as his skin feels hot and tight and his hips stutter up involuntarily.  

“Lia,” he says, “I’m gonna-“ and he tries to whisper but he’s not quiet at the best of times, and right now –

She covers his mouth with her hand again, which is good because he groans heavily as she rocks against him one last time and heat pulses through him, his mind white hot blankness.  

As his chest heaves, she slips off of him and sits on his stomach, guiding his hand back between her legs. Still feeling hazy from coming, he resumes rubbing at the hard bump in the midst of the slick softness. Her breathing picks up again and she leans forward, spreading her hands on his chest to steady herself. He slides his other hand up under her shirt, along the smooth curve of her waist, cups her whole breast in his hand, circles her nipple with his thumb until it hardens.

Soon her thighs tense and shake on either side of him and her fists clench in his shirt as she throws her head back. The tent is dim and she’s quiet about it, but her arched silhouette is _probably_ one of the best things he’s ever seen. A warm feeling spreads through his chest that has nothing to do with sex.

Lia slumps against him, running her hands over his chest, breathing heavily.  Jojo strokes his thumbs against the inside of her thighs, smiling up at her.

She flashes him a brief smile and the warmth in his chest grows stronger until she rolls off of him and starts putting her pants back on.

“Wait – what – where are you going?” he stammers, propping himself up on an elbow. The warmth in his chest has disappeared, replaced by a cold sinking feeling in his stomach. Not that he expected Lia to stay here – well, maybe he hoped she would a little…

She flashes him a blank look. “Back to my own tent. To sleep.”

“Uh – “ There isn’t really any reason for her to stay, and of course it would look weird for her to come out of his tent in the morning, but still. It would’ve been nice to get to hold her a little bit.

Lia moves to the tent flap, but then pauses and turns back. She crawls back to where Jojo is half-sitting and gives him a chaste kiss, cupping the side of his face in her hand. Her fingers linger on his jaw for a moment after she pulls away, and she smiles at him again. The warmth in Jojo’s chest tentatively returns, and he smiles back.

She leaves. He wraps himself up in his blanket again, feeling just a little more lonely but, maybe, a little happier than before.

 


End file.
